


Worn Like the Knees of My Favorite Jeans

by shovelmistress



Series: Steam and Press: The Drycleaning AU [4]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shovelmistress/pseuds/shovelmistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan inherits a dry cleaning shop from his grandmother. Pete is a rich guy who hates his life and likes to collect the things Ryan finds in pockets. Brendon is the repressed good boy with lots of smiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worn Like the Knees of My Favorite Jeans

The tabloids get it wrong. Pete and Mikey never dated, but Mikeyway’s return to Clan heralds in a flurry of photographs and headlines. In the height of Pete and Mikey’s friendship they’d often been stalked by the paps hoping to catch them in compromising situations. Mostly it worked, because Pete’s that kind of asshole and Mikey has a sick sense of humor. It’s one of the things that drew them to each other in the first place.

Not that that’s the point. No, the point is that the tabloids get it wrong but Patrick doesn’t know that. And now he’s not answering Pete’s calls. It’s been three days and he hasn’t been to the studio, or kissing Pete and blushing under his hat and it’s just—the tabloids got it wrong. Pete’s furious about this.

He pounds on Patrick’s dorm door and shifts from foot to foot. It’s three am, and Pete hasn’t slept in days. His skin feels too tight, his smile feels forced (it’s always forced), and his mind won’t focus. The door flies open and he thinks PatrickPatrickPatrick. Patrick’s roommate, who Pete is pretty sure looks familiar, is standing at the door. Pate shoulders past him and tucks himself next to a half-asleep Patrick.

“The tabloids are wrong,” Pete says, digging fingers at bruised eyes. “Me and Mikey didn’t date. We kissed once, but we were drunk. And Mikeyway puked and when I get near his mouth I still think about it, I swear! Please stop ignoring me because I like you and I don’t want you mad at me, okay?”

Patrick rolls over to face Pete and blinks, all sleep warm and pillow creased. “Pete? The fuck?” Patrick asks. “It’s midterms.”

“You’re not pissed off at me?”

“I am now asshole,” Patrick mutters in the dim light from the hallway. “Patrick?” Charlie asks looking at Pete.

“Its fine Charlie, go back to sleep.” Patrick shoots a hand out and pulls on Pete’s shirt. “Shut up and go to sleep,” Patrick tells him. He scoots closer to the wall to give Pete room to spoon up behind him. Pete’s breathing evens out behind him and Patrick sighs and slips back to sleep.

Sometimes Gerard’s skin feels too tight, like his bones have expanded and are trying to burst through. When the itch under his skin gets too bad he walks to this shitty little hole in the wall that’s a few blocks over from his apartment. He dances to “Don’t Stop Believing" by Journey, singing loud but on key, and a little wistfully.

The other patrons in the bar will join in, fist pumping on the “on and on and on”. This little shitty hole in the wall is where he meets Bob. Everyone says Pete’s friend Jon is made of magic, but Bob Bryar is where the mother fucking magic is made.  
Bob is big and intimidating, but Gerard scores it as a win when he sits down in Bob’s lap and tells him he’s made of awesome and doesn’t receive a fist in the face.

He wakes up in the morning to the worst hangover of his life, sleeping in a stranger’s bed. This is déjà vu of his college years.

Bob is sitting on the couch watching tv when he finds him. The clock on the cable box reads 2:42 pm and Gerard winces. He wonders if he can slip past without being noticed.

“Dude, stop creeping,” Bob’s voice is droll. Gerard’s not sure if he’s being made fun of or not. “Wanna watch some Jeopardy?”

“Okay,” Gerard breathes out in relief, and plops down next to him. Bob points to a mug of steaming coffee sitting on the table and Gerard’s eyes light up.

There is a hot tub in Pete’s bathroom. It’s not huge, but it’s a nice size for a Jacuzzi tub. Pete likes to invite friends over to make man soup. They’ve got eleven people stuffed in a four person Jacuzzi. This in itself isn’t a big deal except Gabe is naked-- and just. No.

“Um, Pete?” Patrick is staring down at where Gabe is rubbing his nude parts on his hip.

“Yo Gabanti, stop touching the future Mrs. Wentz,” Pete commands, pulling Patrick closer to his side.

Gabe cackles but stops and Patrick breathes a sigh of relief. Pete already has enough trouble getting Patrick to hang out with his friends without them scarring him for life. Pete nuzzles closer to Patrick and makes room for Joe to climb in on top of their legs. It’s hot and crowded, Patrick pressed next to him, and Pete thinks it’s probably the best man soup ever.

Gerard’s first comic gets picked up by Dark Horse and they go out to celebrate. Gee’s three sheets to the wind when Frank shows up with an extra pack of cigarettes. He passes them to Gerard with a “good job man” and bounces off to grab a drink.

When he comes back Gerard smiles warmly and waves the Marlboros. “Thanks man, I just finished my last one.” Frank grins wide and studies Gerard. He’s got pink glitter on his eyes and a purple feather boa around his neck. Gerard grins back because Frank makes his stomach flutter and it’s kind of nice.

He sneaks off to the alley for a smoke and is just far enough gone to not realize that it's a bad idea after the heavy back door has closed. There's another bar a few doors down that caters to large, muscled men with a penchant for heavy drinking and a low tolerance of--anything. There are three guys in the alley already and Gerard comes up short with the largest takes a special interest in him.

"What are you grinning at faggot?" he barks, and Gerard hadn't realized he was still smiling, but he feels too sober when the smile dies instantly on his face. The guy shoves Gerard hard enough to make him stumble back, lose his footing and scrape an elbow down the hard brick wall as he lands on his hands and knees.

"Shit," Gerard mutters, hands out in front of him for balance. Inexplicably he starts laughing and the guy's face darkens and he steps close enough pull Gerard up by his hair and hit him in the jaw. He grunts in pain but keeps laughing because the situation is really not funny. He spits blood onto the already dirty concrete, running his tongue over his busted lip.

"Hey man," the second guy says to his friend, "knock that shit off, I'm not going to jail over this shit."

The first guy spits at Gerard but lets his friends pull him away. Gerard's shaking because it could have been so much worse than a busted lip. The back door opens and Frank and Bob are there looking for him. They frown when they see him on the ground. Bob pulls him to his feet while Frank crosses arms over his chest. "The hell happened Gee?"

Gerard shrugs at the guys exiting the alley. "Made some new friends," he says easily, but his hands won't still. He's not as numb as when it first happened, and he's feeling a little pissed now that it's all said and done. Frank's eyes narrow and Gerard flinches.

"Want me to fuck them up?" he asks and Gerard's never seen that look on his face; never heard his voice so cold and serious.

Bob ruffles Frank's hair and asks, "Want me to fuck them up while you and Frank watch?" and just like that the moment is diffused.

"Nah man," Gerard grins at them both, "I'm good."

Brendon doesn't see her, but that doesn't mean that Ryan can't. She's sitting on a bench across the street watching them through the big windows in the front of the shop. Brendon's running the front counter for Ryan because it's Saturday and they're busy. He's due in the studio with Patrick but Ryan appreciates that he's stayed to help this long. When he kisses Brendon goodbye he imagines he can feel Grace's eyes burning into his skin.

As soon as Brendon's gone Ryan crosses the street and sits on the bench next to her. "Maybe," he says in his monotone, "maybe you should just talk to him."

"I can't yet," she sighs loudly. "Is this weird?"

"Yes," Ryan says flatly, because a house wife is stalking his place of business and it is weird.

"I need to go," she says. "I need to start dinner."

"Right," Ryan says hollowly. He doesn't even know why he bothered to cross the street.

Pete comes through later and digs through the lost and found. It's nice to have some semblance of normal in his life. He finds a penny he swears is worth fifty bucks and Ryan doesn't even want to know why he knows that.

"Patrick likes me," Pete tells Ryan gleefully.

"I can tell." Ryan does not point out that Pete had said the same thing about Brandon Flowers, and had ended up with a bloody nose. Pete must catch his look because he rolls his eyes at him. "Oh hey look!" Pete grins and holds up a little figurine of R2D2. "He's pocket sized!"

"So are you," Ryan deadpans. Pete balances over the counter and punches him in the arm.

Patrick wasn't sure having Frank on his record was a good idea because he plays mainly punk, but Frank surprises him by breaking out in a jazz riff and Patrick curses and picks up his bass. They pound out most of three separate songs before they stop for a break. Brendon had joined them sometime in the middle of the session on the accordion and it sounded crazy.

"I'll be surprised if any of this can actually be used," Patrick admits but he's still proud none-the-less.

"I have this great idea for the cow bell," Brendon grins and Patrick laughs because he sounds just like Patrick when he talks about music.

"Dude," Frank says, "That's what you said about the rain stick you found at that garage sell."

Brendon sticks his finger in Franks face. "That rain stick was gold man," he sashays off, "gold. I better go find that coffee Pete asked for two hours ago."

He waves at them and ducks back out the door. Frank turns to Patrick who throws his hands up, "Don't look at me," he says, "that rain stick was gold."

"You're both insane."

Mikey drives past this crazy looking coffee shop daily and doesn't ever think about stopping. He gets a coupon in the mail for a free coffee with purchase of a muffin, and hey free coffee, so he goes. He stands in an insanely long line for what feels like forever. When he finally gets to the front he orders a vanilla latte, a black coffee, and a muffin. He waves the coupon at the barista stupidly and doesn't think about how big and soft the guy's lips look. Mikey blinks at him and thinks it's too damn early in the morning to be attracted to the guy with the coffee. He files a mental image away for later, when he's not so asleep.

"We your first stop this morning?" the barista smiles warmly at him while he makes the latte.

"Nrgh," Mikey says and makes grabby hands at the finished latte. His first sip goes straight to his brain and he makes a pathetic whimper in his throat and tries really hard not to down the rest of it in the next five seconds. It's probably the best coffee he's ever had. The guy's eyes light up at the noise and he passes the other coffee to Mikey with a paper sack with the muffin in it.

"I'm Ray," he says, "please come again." Mikey makes another noise and thinks he's going to move into the shop and marry the coffee beans.

Brendon climbs into Ryan's lap on the sofa and kisses him soft and sweet. Ryan flails with his too long arms before cupping his hands around Brendon's waist. Ryan's fingers splay out against the small hint of skin peeking out between pant and shirt. Brendon pulls back, lips red, face flushed. Ryan smirks up at him.

"Hi," he breathes, and shifts down further so Brendon loses balance and falls against Ryan's chest. Brendon smiles back and whispers, "Hi." He curves his body around Ryan's and presses his nose into his neck. He breathes deeply and lets his body untense. Ryan runs his hands up Brendon's back and closes his eyes.

"Nice day?"

Brendon hums an affirmative, and leans sideways to tip them over until they're lying side by side. He squeezes a thigh between Ryan's and sighs happily. "Nap time?" he asks, eyes sliding shut.

"Mmm," Ryan agrees. Their breathing evens out and they sleep.

When Ryan finally wakes up on Sunday morning he walks into the kitchen scratching his stomach and stops short when he finds Spencer there drinking coffee and eating what looks to be a very delicious omelet and his kitchen table.

"Spence?"

"Yeah?"

"Shouldn't you be at school?" Ryan asks with a frown. Spencer gives Ryan a patient look and sets his fork down.

"I quit." Spencer is giving Ryan his best bitchface and it might be scary if Ryan didn't know what the bitchface really meant.

"Come again?" Ryan chokes.

"That's what he said," Brendon yawns from the doorway. When Ryan shoots him a look he shrugs, "What? Don't be so heteronormative Ryan, a boy can say it too."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Ryan spits out, "I'm talking about my best friend's insane plan to ruin his life by dropping out of college!"

"I told you he'd take it worse than my mother," Spencer tones to Brendon over Ryan's head, completely ignoring the rant still currently going on in front of him. Brendon snickers at Spencer's remark. He steals the omelet and scurries away.

"Oh god," Ryan says after a minute, "Please tell me this has nothing to do with your stupid crush on Jon Walker."

"It's not a crush," Spencer denies, looking down at the table. He's biting his lip when he looks back up. "I think I just realized that anything I want to do doesn't involve a degree."

"Jesus Spence," Ryan sighs, "What are you going to do now."

"I have no idea," Spencer admits, and if his voice sounds a little small Ryan's not going to point it out.

**Author's Note:**

> If I've missed any tags, or anything that requires a warning, please let me know. If you're too shy to leave one under a pen name you may drop me a line in my ask box on tumblr. I also accept prompts, and nerdy talk about a wide variety of things.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [Shovelmistress](http://shovelmistress.tumblr.com/).


End file.
